


Eight

by redcandle17



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gang Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4273494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dag realizes something about Joe when he invents a religious ritual to have her raped by several of his War Boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for the kink meme prompt "Immortan Joe has some of his War Boys fuck one of his wives for his viewing pleasure."

Joe’s gaze flickered back and forth between her and Toast, so the Dag knew that whatever he was thinking was no good. Well, it was never _good_ , but this was probably worse than usual. Something bad even by his own standards. She and Toast were his least favorites; if he had something “good” planned, then it would have been Angharad he looked to.

“You,” he said, at last, pointing at her. 

The Dag felt Toast squeeze her hand, offering what support she could. She squeezed back before letting go and following Joe. She was surprised when he led her out of the vault. She looked around with interest, determined to take in whatever good she could before Joe unleashed his special new torment on her. 

One of the two Imperators flanking Joe kept glancing at her. He looked somewhat worried. The Dag tried not to let it frighten her. It was hard, though, when she heard him speak up hesitantly. “Immortan, the Boys are really revved up. I wouldn’t want them to damage one of your treasures…”

“It’s fine,” Joe said. “She’s a hardy one.” 

He was right about that, the Dag thought bitterly, remembering all she’d endured at his hands. But what was this about “the Boys”? How did he intend to involve his precious War Boys?

They descended deeper into the Citadel, down into dark caverns that had never seen the light of day, emerging at last into a vast cave where what looked like all the War Boys were gathered. They were laughing and talking, until they saw Joe approach, and then every one of them went silent. They all bowed their heads and interlaced their fingers into that strange V8 salute. Some dropped to their knees, as if merely bowing wasn’t enough to show their reverence. 

“My half life War Boys,” Joe greeted them. “Daddy loves you.”

The answering roar was nearly deafening. “WE LOVE YOU, DADDY.”

When the Dag had been a small child, before she’d been taken from her parents, she’d called her father daddy. But Joe made her want the word stricken from all human memory and never uttered again. 

“Tonight, my boys, you will be participating in a special ritual. The strongest of you shall lend your strength and dedication to my breeder’s womb, so that she may be strengthened to bear me a healthy son.”

The Dag didn’t like the sound of that. She hoped he didn’t mean what it was she thought he was saying. 

“Pick me, Immortan!”

“I’m the strongest!”

The War Boys surged forward as one, all eager to be chosen for Joe’s perversion disguised as religious ritual. The Imperators shoved back the ones who got too close, but Joe was grinning, clearly enjoying the enthusiasm of his Boys. 

“Eight of you,” Joe intoned. “A holy eight shall prove themselves worthy of this honor.”

The Dag could _feel_ the change in the atmosphere. The War Boys’ mood went from ignorant blissful adoration to a charged aggression. Violence was imminent. She felt a strange thrill of excitement. It surprised her, but she decided not to fight the feeling. She had to embrace anything that would let her survive this night without being torn apart. 

There must be a system, some order to it all, but the Dag didn’t know what. To her, it looked like the whole mass of Boys just turned on each other suddenly. Fists were flying, bodies were being tackled - she even saw one War Boy biting the ear of another one who was squeezing him in a painful looking semblance of a hug. 

Gradually though, there seemed to be fewer and fewer of them. The ones who’d been knocked out or otherwise rendered unable to continue fighting and the ones who’d submitted to superior opponents moved back, lining the walls. There were less than twenty still fighting. The most vicious, she thought. And Joe wanted to unleash that on her. She wondered if he wanted her dead but didn’t want to kill her himself. 

It could be worse, she reminded herself. He could have let them all rape her. Instead it would only be eight. Eight wasn’t so many. Eight could be endured. 

One of the War Boys viciously stomped a downed opponent, only to be tackled from behind and have his own head slammed repeatedly into the ground. 

The Dag forced herself not to try to run. Joe or his men would catch her and what he had planned would happen anyway. 

Finally, finally, there were exactly eight left. Bare chests heaving from exertion, bloody, the beginnings of bruises showing under their painted skin. They were terrifying. 

“My holy eight!” Joe cried out, and the War Boys all cheered, the brutal competition over and apparently already forgotten.

The Dag felt Joe’s hand on her back, pushing her forward. “Go to them.” He added in a quieter undertone, “See what happens if you try to fight _them_.”

She stepped into the midst of the victorious War Boys, who immediately encircled her. She could have kissed the Imperator who told them, “Remember this is one of Immortan’s treasures. Don’t damage her.” 

Joe might have made it clear to her that he wanted to see his Boys hurt her, but thanks to that Imperator, her rapists wouldn’t know that they were expected to damage her. There might be gods after all. 

There was a brief scuffle as the War Boys decided which of them was going to go first. It was over quickly and the victor unceremoniously shoved her to the ground and shoved his cock inside her. The Dag spat in his face. He raised his hand to strike her, but then lowered it without following through, as if remembering the Imperator’s warning. 

He didn’t last long, thankfully, and the next one wasn’t so rough. He tore off the wrapping covering her breasts and bent to suck on a nipple. The sudden pleasure of it made her unintentionally clench his cock tighter. That was the end of him. He came, groaning, and resting atop her. 

He was quickly pulled off her and his replacement flipped her over. The Dag raised herself onto her hands and knees to avoid having her face grounded into the dirt. As the War Boy behind her began fucking her, another crouched in front of her and kissed her eagerly. She decided to reward him for being human enough to kiss by kissing him back. 

She was still kissing him when the one fucking her finished and was replaced. Her new rapist didn’t like to share. He reached across her to grab the one kissing her by the throat. “Wait your turn,” he growled. Selfish asshole. 

But he’d had some experience with women and knew how to fuck for his partner’s pleasure. He angled her hips and his thrusts just so, and it felt _good_. The next War Boy wasn’t any good, but the one after him turned her over onto her back and planted his face between her legs. She thought he might be the one who’d kissed her earlier. 

Boy liked using his mouth. She was liking using his mouth too. “Don’t stop,” she hissed, when he raised his head. He grinned at her and began licking her cunt anew. 

The two who hadn’t had their turns yet were impatient. “Hurry up and fuck her,” one of them snarled. 

“You could learn something from him, schlanger,” the Dag snapped. 

“Mouthy breeder.” The impatient War Boy grinned nastily and knelt by her head. He grabbed her hair and tried to force his cock into her mouth. The Dag bit down. He howled and struck her. 

He tried to hit her again, but the one whose turn it was hit him. Hard. As the two of them fought, the other one took advantage and slid between her legs. The Dag let him get it over with, watching the fight and hoping the nice one won. 

For a moment it seemed like they might actually end up killing each other. The Dag looked at Joe. Would he really allow one of his War Boys to kill another for the privilege of fucking her? Yes, she thought, yes, he would. There was no limit to his monstrosity. 

She was relieved when the Imperators subdued and separated the fighting Boys. The one on top of her had come after just a few thrusts, but he'd remained where he was, touching her all over, like he’d never touched a woman before. The Dag pushed at him and he climbed off her reluctantly. 

The War Boy whose turn had been interrupted came back to her. He was revved up from the fight and not as gentle as before, but the Dag forgave him for it since he had defended her. She held him close to her while he fucked her and kissed his cheek when he was finished. 

It was almost over. The Dag grimaced as the impatient asshole strode towards her. She was already starting to feel sore and she knew this bastard would pound her as hard as he could. She was right. He grabbed her legs and pushed them forward, and set about showing her why synonyms for fucking were all such violent words. 

She glanced at Joe and noticed that he had an erection. His first without chemical help from the Organic Mechanic in all the time she’d been one of his wives. The Dag laughed. She understood now. 

“Think it’s funny?” the War Boy raping her muttered, and began fucking her even harder. 

She’d thought Joe wanted to fuck his War Boys, but that wasn’t it. Joe wanted to be fucked by them. He could never do it because in the harsh world of the Citadel, to be fucked was to be weaker than the one doing the fucking. Having her fucked by his Boys, using her as a proxy for himself, that was as close as he would ever come to what he really wanted. 

The new knowledge made her feel better. Comforted her against the degradation of not only being a thing to be used but also shared with others for their use. It even dulled the pain as her final rapist finished with a triumphant roar. 

Joe was spouting more bullshit to his War Boys, telling them how brightly they burned in their short lives and promising they would all join him in Valhalla. 

“He lies,” she sighed. 

The last War Boy to rape her was still lying beside her. He looked at her curiously, his anger apparently drained away by his orgasm. 

“He’s no god,” she told him. 

He looked shocked and made the sign of the V8 against her blasphemy. 

The Dag climbed to her feet. She ached. She wanted a bath and her bed and the comfort of her sisters-in-slavery. Part of her was already trying to lie to itself, trying to convince her that tonight hadn’t been so bad, not as bad as it could have been. She didn’t tell that part of her to shut up - it was those lies that kept her sane.


End file.
